


By Your Majesties Truly

by Averia



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Billy Hargrove Being an Asshole, M/M, Marijuana, Protective Steve Harrington
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 17:42:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19114588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Averia/pseuds/Averia
Summary: "You heard me," Billy responds lazily, flicking ash away, "and you know it's true."Steve lets out a dry laugh, fingertips flattening the cigarette. Because fuck, he does not need another Tommy H. (he lost one already).The first time Billy and Steve meet is outside of Hawkins on the highway, unrestricted by the rules of their lives. No more than a week later, the tentative friendship building between them is challenged, when Steve is forced to admit, that Billy can go full-on psycho pretty quick.Then again, if you're fighting monsters, it's better to have a monster on your side as well.





	By Your Majesties Truly

**Author's Note:**

> Billy is his own warning, I guess. Also: weed.

Hawkins expands in front of him; sun rays reflect against the dark red of his car and tickle his skin in a warm greeting despite the upcoming chill in the air. The end of October is drawing near and the weather is caught in a constant fluctuation between warm and cold. It leaves everyone a bit off-kilter.

Steve leans back against the windshield, stretching his legs over the hood.

After all that has happened, he likes to stop on the highway to make sure his hometown has not been swallowed by otherworldly monsters. It's the only thing that helps him ignore the darkness that might still fester in the woods he once knew so well, is all that keeps him from going straight to Nancy because - truth be told - he started missing her the second he left Hawkins a few days ago.

Phone calls are just not enough, not even after almost a year of constant togetherness and especially not when he is forced to attend a party thrown by his stuck-up family.

Steve still can't believe how lucky he is to have her in his life. It makes him vibrate out of his skin just to think about their anniversary. He wants it to be good - great even - because Nancy... well, simply put Nancy is perfect, his very own goddess of spring; the sun in his orbit.

Idly he wonders if Jonathan drives up the steep motorway as well to take pictures with the new camera he got last Christmas. He can't believe he actually made up for his mistake. The memory feels false – awkward, but he is also kind of proud.

He puts a cigarette between his lips, smile growing, and lights it up. The first drag makes everything a little better, and he relaxes, lazily letting the ash rain down beside his car.

The idyll doesn't stay, disappears the second another car drives on the truck stop, music blaring loudly, motor howling and tires screeching. The blue Camaro violently grinds to a stop one parking spot over.

Steve tilts his head, watches a guy stomp out, a look in blue eyes that Steve knows all too well and has worn on his face a few times. The guy fumbles a cigarette out of his pocket.

Tanned skin is a curiosity in Indiana and the muscles protruding when the newcomer flicks his lighter makes Steve burn with jealousy he has not felt since Nancy gave Jonathan more attention than him.

...

Maybe, he should get into weight-lifting.

"Hey, man, you got a lighter?"

Steve blinks dumbly. And damn, now that they are facing each other, the guy reminds him so much of Rob Lowe, that he needs a moment to process the sight.

"Sure thing," Steve replies with a grin on his lips and holds the lighter out when the guy walks closer, hips swinging as if coaxed by the wind. It should look hilarious, Steve wants it to be hilarious, but it just isn't.

"You're a lifesaver," the guy replies, taking a deep breath and tilting his head back to let the white smoke out, tongue licking against his bottom lip when he looks back down. His gaze zips over the Beemer.

"Nice car."

"Likewise," Steve replies, pulling up from his half lying position and gestures to the stranger’s car with his chin, "That a Chevrolet Camaro z28,  _hhmm_ , built 1979?"

The guy chuckles. "Close," he promises, tongue against his teeth, "But nah, it’s a 1978 LT 305 with vented side fenders. You know some things about cars, pretty boy?"

Steve snorts, shrugging. "My pa works in the car industry. You tuned her yourself?"

"I did. And, jeez, that explains your car," the guy says, brushing over the sun-warmed roof with wide eyes behind big aviators, something enigmatic in his expression, like hunger or maybe longing, "What did ya pay? 30 mil?"

Steve coughs but nods. Flaunting his wealth is one thing, throwing sums around another. His parents are not that rich, he would not be in Hawkins if that were the case.

His gaze flicks back to the Camaro, catching a glimpse of its license plate, "Cali, huh?"

"Yep," the guy pops the  _p_ , staring down at him, now leaned against the Beemer, stroking the window frame.

"What brings you to Hawkins then?"

"We moved," the guy drawls, eyes squinting into the sun, "My old man got a new job down here."

Steve's eyebrows rise in surprise. He had thought tanned Goldie locks was just visiting good ol' Hawkins - even though he would have heard if someone like him had ever lived in Hawkins from tea drinking grandmas and his classmates, no matter which gender. "You're not a university student, are you?"

The guy blinks owlishly, then he laughs, holding his stomach - the sound is pretty dry. It's really not that funny and they both know it. Steve's stomach twists. The laugh is so clearly sardonic as if someone had spelled it out for him in big bold red letters on top of the cinema.

"Nah, High School," the guy replies, flicking the cigarette away, "Wish I were done though."

"Yeah?" Steve asks, skepticism in his voice, "We can switch then, I'd gladly take a year or two more."

The guy snorts, gaze flickering over him and Steve realizes even through all the posturing, the guy in front of him doesn't know what to do with him. He wonders if it's just a matter of time before they clash.

"Hawkins High is the only High School around. Maybe we'll see each other on Monday? I can show you around? Breaking into the village fold isn't easy..."

"Sure," the guy replies, doesn't seem to believe him. Hawkins would take him with pleasure, especially the girls, Steve is sure. A California heart drop.

"I'm Steve, by the way."

The guy looks at his hand for a moment before he takes it. His skin is warm, calluses harsh against Steve's skin.

"Billy."

* * *

 ♔ ♚ 

* * *

 Sunday is nice.

Monday hits Steve like ice water. Nancy looks over his work like he has seen her do countless times. It's the  _'hopelessly searching for any sense in his words'_ -look and it irritates him, frustrates him, makes him feel inadequate and stupid _, god, he's so stupid, isn't he?_

The roar of an engine rips him out of his teeth grinding thoughts, away from the brown eyes of Nancy Wheeler.

It's the blue Camaro. Steve huffs out a laugh. His head had filled with Nancy the second he entered Hawkins, and he had all but forgotten about the new boy in town.

He is out of the Beemer before he can help it, running from his responsibilities like Tommy always accuses him of the second Billy steps out of the car. It's easier that way, sue him. Nancy's scoff barely reaches his ears. He ignores it easily, just keeps on walking towards Billy with a barely held back smirk.

" _Well, well, well._  If it isn't Mister Blue Camaro; Hawkins hasn't knocked that Cali behavior out of you yet, has it?"

Billy licks his lips.

"Never, Stevie boy."

Steve huffs, isn't sure if he should say something about the nicknames or not. Oddly enough, it feels nice, even 'pretty boy'.

Nancy sidles up beside him. The blue eyes shortly stray to her.

"You know where everything is?" Steve asks, taking her hand, "We could show you around."

"You're offering to do community service? Nah, I know where to go. Got it all figured out, man," Billy replies, grin on his lips but a tightness to his stance that Steve hasn't noticed before.

He flicks his car keys, instinct telling him not to turn his back. "Sure. I'll check up on you during lunch."

"Yeah? You're my babysitter now?"

"If you want me to be?" Steve challenges, head cocked.

Billy leers, taking a small step forward. "You say I need one?"

"Sure, one that keeps it PG-13 when you're on school grounds."

Billy cackles, waving him off. "See you at lunch,  _Mom_."

Steve snorts, gaze shortly lingering on the blue eyes that regard him so intensely Steve can't get rid of the idea, that Billy would bite him if they gravitated any closer. He turns back to Nancy with a smile. Her lips stay down in a frown and when they are past the entrance, she says, "I don't have a good feeling about him."

Steve shrugs with one shoulder. "He's edgy. It's gonna be fine."

"I thought we," Nancy cuts herself off, squeezes his hand without looking at him, "never mind."

Her gaze stays locked on the hallway until they reach the door to her classroom. Steve doesn't know what she wants to hear.

First and second period go by in a haze, his mind drifting to the crumpled paper in his car. He has always gotten by, his grades an influx of C- and D+ and those two B+ in sports and math. The latter nobody understands, he still remembers the look his father gave him; the disbelieving snort that said it all. Sometimes, Steve sits in front of his math homework wondering if he should just leave it blank. It's easier to play to everyone’s expectations.

Billy, in contrast, isn't much for expectation. When Steve rounds the corner to Nancy's classroom Billy is already leaning against the wall beside the open door. Nancy stares at him as if he is the sourest lemon she has ever seen.

"Everything alright?" Steve asks, gaze sticking to Nancy until her expression smooths out. Finally, he brings his attention to Billy, Nancy's shoulder brushing against his arm and their fingers interlocking.

"Yeah," Nancy says and Steve waits, unsure.

"Just got into a discussion about a short story," Billy replies, pushing away from the wall to step towards them. Steve frowns, involuntarily stepping forward to cut Billy's path off, the grin that follows makes his hairs stand on edge.

"Relax, man, I'm not here to steal your girl," Billy chuckles, hand gripping his shoulder too close to his neck, "I just meant to give you back the cig I owe you."

Steve purses his lips but before he can respond, Nancy slips her hand out of his, accusing eyes glaring up at him.

"I thought you stopped?"

Wincing, Steve takes a half step back to face her, fully ignoring how Billy changes his stance, hand falling away just for an arm to lie across his shoulder as if he is Tommy - as if Billy is on his side.

"I did? I just," Steve bites his lip, gesturing with his hand, "you know?"

Nancy stares, then she rolls her eyes. "Whatever... Just go, Steve. It's your body."

He doesn't know what to say. Her arms are crossed; the frown on her mouth suddenly seems so permanent. He forces a faint smile.

"I'll make it up to you, promise," he says, gentle and a bit helpless. A sigh leaves her lips, gaze softening ever so slightly.

She turns with a 'don't forget to eat; you know where to find me'. For a moment he gazes after her, then he turns as well, sending Billy a look and a gesture that makes the California heart drop swagger out of school with a grin.

"How come you're together with such a mousy prissy bitch?" Billy drawls once they are leaning against the outer side of their gym hall, cigarettes between their mouths. Steve nearly chokes on his own spit.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Billy responds lazily, flicking ash away, "and you know it's true."

Steve lets out a dry laugh, fingertips flattening the cigarette. Because fuck, he does not need another Tommy H. (he lost one already).

"Maybe Nancy is right," he presses the cigarette out against the concrete beside him, leveling a glare at Billy; "Maybe I should just stick to her and Byers."

* * *

♔ ♚

* * *

The party is still going on around him but Steve barely hears the thrumming bass and the drunken screaming as he searches his way through the swinging bodies like the professional he is. The door falls shut behind him, muting everything and making the  _bullshit, bullshit, bullshit_ ring louder in his ears. He kicks an unsuspecting flowerpot off the porch. If anyone asks, he'll just tell them he saved it from a vomit attack.

He knows, though, that he needs to calm down and... and bring Nancy home? That's why he stayed sober in the first places, right? But he can't even get her out of that bathroom. And,  _fuck_... he doesn't want to bring her home. He wants to care less, doesn't want to see her. Nancy Wheeler. Spring goddess.  _Shit._

The door opens behind him, and he steps to the side to let whoever it is through but instead an arm circles around his shoulders, all but throws him back against a sweaty and beer covered body.

"There you are, King Steve," Billy croons the words.  _Into the Groove_  blasting on full speakers behind them. "Did your princess leave you?"

Steve would flinch if he could when a hand presses against his stomach but Billy has him in something that is more head-lock than half hug and Steve is a second away from head-butting the asshole until his stupid nose bleeds.

"Leave me alone, Billy," he growls instead but Billy just grins.

"You don't want that. I’m a King like you. My attention is worth something."

The grin has something knowing, something shark-like and Steve doesn't care or at least he shouldn't.

"What do you want?" he asks instead, rolling his shoulders to get him off and pulling his jacket straight with a bit too much force. Indulging Billy is a bad idea but whatever, he did have a little bit to drink, and he doesn't care about Nancy right now, doesn't want to. He wants to say  _fuck you, Nancy Wheeler._

"Heard you have a pool," Billy replies with a shit eating grin, hands up in the air as if to soothe him.

"Whatever," he sighs; making an aborted gesture for Billy to follow him and minutes later he opens the door to his empty house. A low whistle and another clasp around his shoulder is all the attention Billy gives to the interior before he hightails it out of the kitchen towards the glimmering pool.

"It's heated, just jump in," Steve calls out as if Billy wouldn't have done that anyway. It's just nice to pretend to be in control even if it's--  _bullshit._

He watches Billy strip down to his boxers with a certain threat he always feels at the edge of the pool nowadays, it slithers away at once when Billy jumps in with a loud  _whoop_ ; water splattering in Steve's direction. He barely saves his shoes. By the joy of it, Steve assumes that Billy hasn't found somewhere to swim since he left Cali for Hawkins.

"You coming in, pretty boy?" Billy asks, dark curls floating around him.

Steve wants to but he can't. Slowly, he shakes his head.

"I'm good."

Billy stares at him for a while, blue eyes too piercing mixed with the eerie bluish light of the pool, and then he shrugs, gesturing to the discarded jeans.

"Got a joint left from Cali. You want to get high?"

Steve shouldn't. "Sure."

"Take it," he admonishes, lips curled. He looks like the devil of the sea.

The simple plastic package looks well-used, the smell wafting to his nose before he has even opened the zipper. "One?" he asks, counting to three.

"One for us," Billy clarifies, "If you're good company I might share again."

"You could share with Tommy," Steve replies, pulling one out and sealing the bag again, "He seemed smitten with you."

Billy snorts. "Tommy has to pay me some taxes before I give him anything. I'm a King, not charity. Now light it up."

Steve does and takes the first drag. It's good, definitely more expensive stuff.

"If you run out, tell me," Steve says, giving the joint to the madman in his pool.

"Course you know where to buy the good stuff," Billy replies with a grin. The weed passes between them easily, Billy resting in the water while Steve sits in the lounge chair, watching the stars shift in his vision. It hits like it always does, with a warm explosion in his chest and a freeing laugh.

His lungs feel larger when he breaths. He feels a bit closer to the night sky with every drag even though he sinks into the sun lounger as if he is weighing 500 pounds. Billy chuckles, cheek pressed to the cold stone, wide gaze on him.

"You think we'll ever find aliens?" he asks, blinking owlishly as Billy lies down beside him, water glittering on his skin like the stars above.

"Yeah," Billy replies, giggling quietly when Steve reaches out for the glimmering stars against tanned skin and nearly falls from his lounge flat on his face, "They'll probably kill us."

Steve huffs, kicking out with his leg into Billy's ribs; it gets him a hiss and a swipe to his foot.

Another giggle escapes him. "Are you a cat, Hargrove?"

"Do I look like one?" Billy asks, posing prettily on the cold hard ground.

"Kinda."

Billy rolls flat on his back, arms stretched, and „Maybe we are all cats pretending to be humans."

They stare at each other. " **Meow.** "

This time Steve does fall from the lounger, catches himself, still laughing

"Where are you going, Stevie?"

"Food," he replies, his fingers flexing at his sides. His stomach crumbles. "I'm on the hunt."

Billy giggles like a manic pixie and somehow they stumble back in, arms over each other just in case one of them falls.

"Eggos?" Steve asks. Ever since Nancy's little brother seems to have them with him at all times, he's gotten a taste for them. They should be able to fill the yawning void his stomach has become.

Billy walks past him to the vinyl with a grunt, still dripping with water.

"Why did you move here?"

"Beat someone to a bloody pulp," Billy replies, stretching his body like an oversized cat.

"Mauled someone?" Steve asks, a smile splitting his face as he sticks the Eggos in the toaster.

Billy lounges back against the chair, wet boxer shorts clinging to his skin.

"Beat someone," Billy replies, head lolling back and voice growing guttural, "to a bloody pulp."

Steve doesn't laugh. Billy doesn't tell him it's a joke.

"You enjoyed it?"

Billy hums, staring at him as he did in the parking lot. It makes Steve's skin itch even through the haze of the weed or maybe because of it. Cold sweat clings to his back. He picks the Eggos up and walks over to his new house cat.

"You think the cops are already waiting at your door?"

Steve doesn't answer, just gives him the Eggo. There's a monster behind him, unfurling its flowery mouth and Billy's eyes shine like neon lights in the dark, pool water still reflecting in them.

Pink lips suck the oily sugar from his fingertips.

* * *

 ♔ ♚

* * *

He wakes to morning light floating in through the kitchen front, eyes bleary.

"Nance?" he asks, confused, but the feet his own are entangled with are too large and heavy.

"Not your princess," Billy grumbles, promptly pushing against his face with a hand, ring digging into his eyebrow. Steve swats it away.

"Asshole."

"Let me sleep," Billy growls, rolling on his side. Steve grumbles but lets him. They are lying on the kitchen floor, tiles cool beneath them. First period is probably over already, second might be too. Whatever. They can go for third. Or not at all.

"You want one too?" Billy asks when he finally stands up, still only in boxers while Steve has gone through his whole routine. Steve shrugs just as he takes the cigarette. It's telling how fast he falls back into old patterns. The thought will pester him for a while, Steve knows.

"She still not a bitch?" Billy eventually asks, voice rumbling through the quiet.

Smoke blows out between Steve's lips. The wind creates ripples over the pool.

"Yeah," he answers, deep brown eyes locking with Billy's, "Don't you dare call her that again."

"Or what?" Billy asks, smirking as he lets his head fall back.

"I'll tell her." Steve grins, a little meaner than he has in a long time. "Then, she'll shoot you in the ass."

"Hah!" Billy replies, his tongue dragging over his teeth and gaze burning, " _Kinky._ "

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading <3
> 
> Feel free to point out mistakes.


End file.
